Jailbird
by Glowing Blue
Summary: It's impossible to believe that their relationship grows in just two days. But it does. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters (it feels so weird writing 'Death Note' instead of 'Bleach').**

* * *

><p>Perhaps it is the way she screams for mercy, the way her large – <em>innocent<em> – eyes pool with tears, the way she struggles, despite the stupidly slim chance she has to escape the grasp of his henchmen, but...

There is something about Yagami Sayu that draws him.

He does not jump the gun and call it _love – _that useless emotion that is the downfall of so many men – but there is definitely an attraction. Lust, perhaps?

Yes, that must be it, he decides. There is no way he could ever see her as anything more than a thing for pleasure, and a tool to reach his goal; his life revolves around Near – that bastard albino _freak _and the way he _pretends _he is so much better than him – and now, the notebook of Death itself.

But – no – there is something else. What is this warm feeling, he ponders.

And then he is irritated. But not at himself – no, _never _at himself, because he is always right and never the one at fault – but at this damn feeling that _just won't take a hike! _Why must it return, always and without doubt, when _she _is around?

If he could just pinpoint it, figure out what it is – what it is _called – _he could maybe write it down in the Death Note – he knows his plan is foolproof, and he _will _get what he wants – and squash it, bury it, destroy it from within himself completely. It is worth a shot.

But the cleansing will have to wait, he is angered to realize. He still does not have the damn book, and he still does not know _which _fucking emotion he is feeling. And Mello hates it when things don't go the way he wants, _when _he wants.

And chocolate does not help ease him, which just pisses him off more.

**.. ღ ..**

She does not understand why he returns constantly.

Is it not enough that she has already been completely humiliated – gagged, jailed, restricted, with tears dried on her face that have done nothing to help? Why must he watch her with that gloat in his eyes – or _is it _a boast?

Certainly, there is a satisfaction there. He is no doubt pleased with the way his plans are proceeding so smoothly – he has her, and she knows her mother probably began panicking when she was two _seconds_ late to dinner.

But then there is an agitation in his posture as well. Shoulders scrunched, legs pacing, face aggravated, eyes blazing.

She winces every time he sets _those _eyes on her, and that only serves to intensify the glare, though she does not understand why.

After all, it makes sense that her captor would wish she fear him, right?

**.. ღ ..**

_Why _does she fucking _wince _every time he looks at her?

He has worked so hard his entire life to ensure that people realize he is not to be belittled, simply because of his feminine features. And now, when he meets the first person who does not take his looks for granted at first meeting, it only infuriates him.

_'Dammit woman! Stop looking at me like that!'_

This thought is followed by an indescribable need to punch the wall behind him, but rather than humiliate himself – his fingers twitch, his mind sincerely welcomes the distraction of pain – he stomps out of the basement, _painfully_ aware of her eyes following him, questioning him.

That is _not _the kind of distraction he wants.

**.. ღ ..**

She stops questioning his motives after the first couple of hours.

Really, she stops thinking, period.

Not because it is too frightening – it _is, _and _was, _right from the beginning – but because her mind finally kicks in its defense mechanism. There are no other ways to describe it: her mind is _numb._

And because her mind is uncooperative right now, she no longer realizes when her hourly visitor comes in, stares at her intensely, curses under his breath when she unconsciously winces, stomps away, taking care to slam the door shut behind him and let the entire building know he is pissed off.

How could she, really? He does not speak to her, or loud enough for her to comprehend. And really, she is grateful. She would rather_ not_ hold a conversation with her kidnapper.

But she is lonely. Sitting alone in a filthy cell, rotting away with each time she is forced to consume moldy food that could barely be enough for an anorexic, it can get old, really fast.

So when she first hears his voice, it is an oasis, a welcome change from the norm, and she clings to it.

"Dammit woman! Stop looking at me like that!"

"...sorry."

**.. ღ ..**

The door he is about to slam halts.

He had been fairly sure he had _not_ said that out loud_._

He wheels himself around, rushing down the basement stairs so fast he almost trips. When he reaches her cell, he grabs onto the bars, bringing himself as close as possible.

"_What _did you just say?"

Perhaps she thinks she did something wrong, because her eyes flit around the room quickly, taking in everything around her. When they land back on him – still large, still _innocent –_ she licks her dry lips.

"I said 'sorry.'"

"What the hell are _you_ apologizing for?"

"...I don't know."

"You don't _know?_" His voice is incredulous, amused.

She shakes her head.

"Then tell me, Yagami Sayu," - her name _does not _feel perfectly right on his tongue - "what _do _you know?"

"I know you're angry," she dares to say. "But I don't know why."

And he throws back his head, and _laughs. _He fucking _laughs_ until she is looking at him curiously.

"You don't know much, do you? You're pretty stupid, aren't you?"

Strangely, she does not look offended. Instead, she shrugs.

"Compared to my brother, yeah."

And he scowls, unsure of just _why _he feels agitated at this answer – or why _everybody _must be compared to _someone –_ but knows that he just is.

"I didn't _ask _how smart you are compared to your bother," he snarls.

That is the end of _that _conversation.

**.. ღ ..**

The warm feeling changes. Soon, it's more...frenzied.

Yeah, that's it. Almost like the strange feeling one gets when going down on a roller coaster – jitters in their stomachs as it flips, not entirely _un_comfortable, but not comfortable either.

He has yet to decide whether he likes it.

**.. ღ ..**

"What the hell are you _eating_?"

"I don't know. One of your mafia people gave it to me."

"And you're just going to _eat it, _without knowing what it is?"

"...I'm hungry."

"Che, _here. _We can't have you half-starved and dying when your old man comes. He might back out of the deal."

"But, that's your chocolate!"

"So what_?_! Is there something wrong with my food_?_! Not good enough for you?"

"No...but the last time one of my guards accidentally took a piece, you broke his hand."

"That's because that was my favorite kind! This is just some trashy one from the dollar store down the street."

"Oh...well, okay then. It _does _look better than what I'm eating _now_. Thank you, Kidnapper-san."

"Kidnapper-san...?"

"Wow, this is pretty good!"

"Hey, don't hog _all of it! _Just 'cause it's from a dollar store doesn't mean I don't want it!"

"...mphnmph."

"_Ugh. _Keep it. I don't even want to go near it anymore."

**.. ღ ..**

"Hey Kidnapper-san, what's your name?"

"What do you need to know my name for?"

"Well, I'm sure you'd rather I not call you 'Kidnapper-san' forever."

"Doesn't matter to me. We're not going to see each other again, anyway."

"Is your name uncool? Is that why you don't want to tell me?"

"Wha – _No! _You've got a lot of nerve, woman."

"My name's not 'woman.' It's Sayu. See? That wasn't so hard. And you can call me that if you want."

"I don't want to. And Sayu's a shitty name."

"Hey! What_ is_ your name then, if you can make fun of other people's names?"

"...Mello."

"_Mello?"_

"Yeah! You gotta problem with that_?_!"

"No...it's just that..."

"What?"

"For a Mello, you're not very mellow."

**.. ღ ..**

"Mello, will I ever go back home again?"

"Of course you will, idiot. As soon as your old man gets here, you're outta here."

"What's so important that you needed to kidnap me to get it, anyway?"

"None of your damn business."

"Mou, you're so mean."

"Get fucking used to it."

"...you know, if you keep swearing like that all the time, people will start to think you're a bad person."

"I _am _a bad person, idiot."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't want people to _think _it."

"I don't give a damn what people think."

"Then why are you in the mafia?"

"'Cause it's got benefits."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like they kidnap whoever I want them to kidnap, and I don't have to lift a finger."

"...you've kidnapped other people before me?"

"Why the hell do you look so upset_?_!"

"Well, I sort of thought I was unique."

"...you are _not _right in the head."

**.. ღ ..**

"Ne, Mello? Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you weren't a genius?"

"Where the hell did _that _come from?"

"Well, I always thought that if my brother wasn't so smart, maybe we wouldn't be in this whole mess with Kira."

"Trust me. Your brother isn't that smart. The Kira Investigation would be _way _better off without him, for multiple reasons."

"Don't snort; you're not a pig."

"What are you, my mother?"

"You're avoiding my question."

"...yeah, I do. Sometimes."

"_And?_"

"And nothing. I like being a genius."

"Hmmm, if you say so."

"I _do _say so. When you're a genius, you're better than everyone else."

"Then why are you always cursing this _Near _person?"

"Shut the hell up. You don't know anything."

"It's okay, Mello. I think you're _way _better than _Near_."

"I'm you kidnapper! What the hell are you doing, trying to cheer me up? Are you crazy?"

"...I think I am. _Now_."

**.. ღ ..**

"Who's that?"

"A doctor. He's going to check your head for injuries. Or possible signs of craziness."

"You're so silly, Mello. You don't need a _doctor_ to check for that. I _know _I'm crazy. Getting kidnapped can do that to a person."

"You trying to pin this on me_?_!"

"Yes."

"...fine. Well, if we don't need a doctor..."

"_Ah!_ What was that for_?_!"

"We can't have him giving away our secret hiding place."

"So you just _shot him?_!"

"This is the mafia, woman. We don't play around..._Oi! Someone come get this body before it starts stinking up the joint!"_

**.. ღ ..**

"Hey, your old man's finally on his way."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's coming to get you tomorrow, so get ready."

"You mean like, brush my hair and refresh my makeup? Or, try not to look so skinny and dead?"

"Che, you've been spending too much time with me, woman."

"Not by choice. I'm shackled to the wall, remember?"

"We let you go to the bathroom!"

"In a bedpan on the other side of the cell."

"Whatever. I don't need to take this from you. I get enough from Matt."

"Oooh. Who's Matt? A friend? Can I see him?"

"_Look. _I'm your _kidnapper. _You're not supposed to get all chummy with me and want to meet my friends, got it?"

"You have a superiority complex, don't you?"

"_Argh! _Just...be ready."

"Okay."

**.. ღ ..**

"Mello?"

"_Why _do you _talk _so much?"

"..."

"_Fine. What?_!"

"How come you're not mean, like all the others?"

"What others?"

"Like my guards. They're always laughing at me, and one of your men even slapped me while they were trying to kidnap me. How come you gave me some chocolate instead?"

"Who slapped you_?_!"

"I don't know; I was blindfolded. But you're avoiding my question _again. _And you're not very good at it."

"There's no need for me to mess with you. I just need to keep you here until your old man gives me what I want."

"Oh..."

"_Now what?_"

"Well, I just thought it was because we were sort of becoming friends."

"Dammit. I shouldn't have shot that doctor. He could have told us if you had Stockholm along with your craziness."

"Am I not good enough to be your friend? Is this _Matt _person _better_ than me?"

"Look, I haven't even told you if Matt's my friend, just that he gives me backtalk and is fucking annoying. And you shouldn't _want _to be my friend."

"Why not? You're not mean to me."

"May I remind you, I'm your kidnapper."

"Yeah, but you didn't even kidnap me yourself; other people did."

"Because I couldn't be bothered with you, that's why."

"Fine then! I didn't even like you all that much to begin with, anyway."

**.. ღ ..**

It's impossible to believe that their relationship grows in just two days. But it does.

When he is not with his men, overseeing his plans and devising one for the trade yet to come, he is with her in her jail cell, coming and going constantly throughout the day.

He always lets himself in and seats himself beside her, leaning against the wall behind them, their shoulders touching. He grows accustomed to this routine.

So when Yagami finally arrives, ready to switch the notebook for his daughter, he is tempted to call off everything and keep her for himself. He needs more friends than just Matt, anyway.

But there is no way to back out of the deal. The chief of police has flown in specially to L.A and is expecting his daughter, as promised.

Perhaps it would have been smarter not to send her with a mysterious masked man. He can tell she is absolutely terrified, especially because he does not reassure her that the gun in the man's hand is a blank. There is no way he will hurt her, but to make the exchange more realistic, he cannot let anyone know of this.

He seats himself with his men, awaiting the news of whether the book is real or fake. To his satisfaction, Miller drops dead later, his hand clutched over his heart in pain. Moments later, they receive word of their success.

He plants a smirk on his face, takes a bite of his chocolate, and appears to be calm and collected as the others cheer at their victory against the Japanese police.

When the masked man returns, the notebook is in his possession, and Sayu is long gone.

**.. ღ ..**

She probably hates him now. He has put her through such a horrible ordeal, caused her fear and pain, and she is probably cursing his name at the very moment. The thought hurts.

It is only when he reaches the safety of his room that he allows the cool facade to drop.

If today had been yesterday, he knows he would have been in Sayu's jail cell, bantering with her as they had grown accustomed to doing.

He clenches his fist. Even an endless amount of chocolate would not help now.

To distract himself, he fingers the notebook in his hand, eying it from all angles. He runs his fingers over the heading, _Death Note, _written in childish writing. This small little black book is the cause of so much turmoil. It's amazing, really.

He flips open to the last used page. There it is, written very clearly: Miller's name. The reason that the sneaky bastard is dead, the way Kira kills.

The reason he met Sayu.

It seems so...surreal, somehow, to think that just two days ago, he had been so obsessed with this book, if only to beat Near. And now, all he wants is Sayu and that strange feeling she evokes in him that still has not gone away. If anything, it is stronger.

He remembers her arrival, when he had first felt the strange flutter and twist of his stomach, when he had attempted to decipher which emotion it was, and when he had planned to put an end to it with this small black book.

...that's it! He still has his plan! It can make all the pain go away; all the remembrance, the memories, the _feelings _he had never wanted in the first place. It can take him back to the way he used to be; cruel, uncaring, ambitious, and unwilling to let _anything _get in his way.

Excited, he rummages through his drawers for a pen, pencil, _any _writing utensil really – he will not be picky at this point – to test his idea.

When he finally finds one, he seats himself on the edge of his bed, opens the deathly book to a fresh page, pencil poised above to write.

He closes his eyes, remembering the many times he and the youngest Yagami had shared together. In his mind, he clearly pictures their usual position when together; side by side, her smiling and initiating the conversation, and him with a bar of chocolate in his hand, an annoyed expression on his face at her attempts. He clearly feels her soft touch, smells her nice smell, hears her smooth voice, and experiences the way his heart had flustered when exposed to Yagami Sayu.

With these thoughts in his mind, as is required of the Death Note, he lifts his pencil to the paper and scribbles the name of his first victim, just one word, four letters.

_Love._

It doesn't work.

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><p><strong>Yay! My first fic in a fandom other than Bleach! I hope you enjoyed it; I certainly enjoyed writing it! And you know, it was all basically based off of the ending of this fic - it came to mind that Mello might be the type to kill off love if given the chance (but, of course, since it didn't work, it means he's still in love with her! ^^), and I immediately wrote an entire fic just to write out the ending I did.<strong>

**Because the series never really goes deeply into Sayu's character, I've based her personality mostly off of her fourteen year old version, as that is the one most seen. I tried to make her a little bratty and whiny. I realize that the older Sayu did act a little more maturely during the short time she made an appearance, but I think the kidnapping and the craziness of her mental state can attribute to her acting immature once again. ****Not sure how I did with Mello though - I think I was doing good in the beginning, and then maybe later steered off a bit towards OOC-ness ^^'**


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